


Blue-Eyed Boy

by merrymiscellaneous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Puns, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fluff and Humor, Flustered Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Idiots in Love, Keith is smitten, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Romance, Singer Lance (Voltron), Slow Build, adam owns a bar, broganes, lance is a performer, lance is hot and keith can't take it, lots of flirting, mcdonalds, shiro is embarrassing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymiscellaneous/pseuds/merrymiscellaneous
Summary: Every year on his birthday, Shiro gets a free pass to drag Keith wherever he wants to celebrate. This year, he decides to spend their night at his incredible fiancé Adam's bar, the Galaxy Garrison. Keith is less than thrilled, but Shiro insists that he just might find the man of his dreams.Keith hates it when Shiro's right.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 182





	1. Baby, I Like Your Style

**Author's Note:**

> howdy everyone I'M BACK!!! and I still love klance more than ever :) I actually wrote most of this story back in 2017, but this pandemic has given me the opportunity to finish some of my older writings! I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!
> 
> also, the song that Lance sings later in this story is Alex Aiono's mashup of One Dance and Hasta el Amanecer which can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kuz3DUNZaC8

“You really want to come  _ here _ for your 30 th birthday?” Keith groans, squinting at the neon blue sign hanging above the door. The elegant, looped cursive is familiar as it shines down on them. “Shiro, you’re at this bar at least three times a week.” 

Shiro’s eyes widen as he looks around hurriedly, sending a few weak smiles to concerned pedestrians. They give him wary glances. “Keith,” he whispers, “you’re making it sound like I have a drinking problem.”

“I’m just saying, you come to the Galaxy Garrison  _ all the time _ .” 

Even if it isn’t for the purpose of drinking, Shiro frequents the Galaxy Garrison bar constantly just to visit his fiancé, Adam. Ever since Adam reopened his family's old bar, it was practically the only place his brother ever wanted to go. Shiro was at the bar at least two or three times a week—which meant he tried to convince Keith to come with him at least two or three times a week. Without much luck dragging Keith along, Shiro eventually stopped harassing him throughout the week. But the weekend? They’re always fair game. 

Ever since his brother finally popped the question last June, Shiro and Adam have been practically attached at the hip. The regulars at the bar greet Shiro kindly whenever they see him, asking about his future wedding plans or his day at work. All the bartenders know Shiro’s favorite drink (something Keith doesn’t even know) and talk about personal things with him like old friends. 

Shiro’s favorite bartender at the Galaxy Garrison, Hunk Garrett, is going to be a groomsman alongside Keith at the happy couple’s wedding. After talking to the bartender several times over the last few months, Keith understands why Shiro and Adam want him to be a part of their special day. Hunk’s big heart and attention to detail make him a great addition to the wedding party. Keith briefly wonders if he’ll see Hunk mixing drinks tonight behind the bar—the possibility lifts his spirits a little bit. 

“Keith, you  _ know _ Adam is working tonight. I promised that I would come by the bar so I could celebrate my birthday with him too.” Shiro pauses, slinging his arm around his little brother, “I know your young mind can’t comprehend it, but thirty is a very important age.” He reaches out his hand to ruffle Keith’s hair, just like he used to do when they were kids. Keith shoves him away playfully, groaning and trying to fix his hair. Shiro steps into the bar and Keith follows behind him somewhat reluctantly.

“Sure it is, _ Grandpa _ .” Keith answers, easily ducking Shiro’s next attempt to ruffle his hair. Still grinning, he stops to take a moment to look around the room.

The bar is alive tonight—like most nights since the Galaxy Garrison reopened. Everyone’s packed tightly inside the four walls, bass pounding and multicolored lights swirling around the room. Keith thinks that if he focuses too long on one thing, he might get dizzy from the movement. Plenty of people are huddled around the bar, ordering drinks and chatting with friends, while others dance along to the melody of a live artist. Practically everyone surrounding the small stage is already singing terribly off-key and swaying back and forth like a bunch of drunk idiots. The artist on stage has shaggy dark hair and heavy eyeliner, nodding his head to the beat of his guitar. 

In the other corner of the room, Keith notices there’s a bachelorette party in full swing. The bride-to-be stands in the center of her friends, sporting a fashionable pink glitter sash as she finishes off a line of shots.  _ I should really start planning a kickass bachelor party for Shiro, _ Keith thinks idly. All he knows is that it _ definitely _ isn’t going to be here at the Galaxy Garrison.

“I don’t understand why  _ I’m  _ here if you want to spend your birthday with  _ Adam _ .” Keith yells over the music, weaving through the crowd and towards the busy bar.

Keith barely hears Shiro scoff, but he can see the flippant roll of his eyes as his brother looks back over his shoulder at him. “I want to spend my birthday with my two favorite people—my  _ fiancé  _ and my  _ baby brother _ !”

Keith is in for a _ long  _ night. 

Once they come to a stop by the edge of the bar, Keith narrows his eyes at Shiro and points his finger in a way that he hopes looks somewhat threatening. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, Shirogane. Or else I would be at home ordering pizza and watching Ghostbusters.”

Shiro sends him a shit-eating grin, throwing his arm haphazardly around Keith’s shoulder. “Yet another reason to thank me! And, hey, you never know! You could find the man of your dreams tonight and have me to thank for it. Maybe you’ll get laid and—”

“Nope!” Keith exclaims, covering his ears to block out whatever Shiro’s trying to say. He’s going to need  _ a lot more _ alcohol if he plans to discuss his sex life with his brother. “We’re not going to talk about that. This conversation is over.”

Luckily Hunk, an angel in disguise, spots the two of them down the bar and moves towards them. Hunk is wearing his Galaxy Garrison standard apron and his favorite yellow headband, and Keith is so thankful for the interruption that he almost jumps over the bar to hug the man. Maybe some other time. “Shiro, welcome back! Keith, it’s been a while! What can I get for you two?”

“Nothing for me yet, Hunk. But make Keith one of my usuals. He’s going to try something new because it’s my birthday and  _ he owes me _ .” Keith doesn't miss the sickly sweet smile on Shiro’s face when he adds, “Right, Keith?”

“I’ll take a  _ Shiro Usual _ , Hunk.” Keith grumbles, sitting down on an unoccupied bar stool to drown his sorrows. Hunk smiles at him sympathetically and starts to make his drink. Keith tries not to be too concerned by the amount of colorful liquids going into Hunk’s drink mixer.

“By the way, Happy Birthday, dude!” Hunk says before Shiro can get too far, smiling brightly, “Adam is probably somewhere around here. I just saw him talking with Allura.” Shiro grins, already looking across the bar in search of his husband-to-be. Sometimes his older brother is so incredibly whipped that it makes Keith a little sick, but he really is happy for them. 

“Thanks, Hunk! And Keith,” Shiro puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “ _ please _ have fun.” Keith nods, trying his best to promise and put on a brave face. Seemingly satisfied with his response, Shiro disappears, eager to find his fiancé. As soon as Shiro’s out of sight, Keith frowns.  _ Yeah, he’s going to have a great night celebrating his brother’s birthday with his brother nowhere to be found.  _

Hunk slides him Shiro’s ‘usual,’ and Keith warily inspects the drink for any trace of poison and/or practical jokes. Rule #1 in the Shirogane household is to never trust a drink from Shiro and Keith is  _ not _ about to break that rule. The first thing he notices, of course, is the fact that the drink is bright green. And not just any lousy green—this drink is  _ neon _ . 

“Hunk, is this drink  _ glowing _ ?” Keith asks, holding up the drink to get a better look at it. Despite the dark bar setting, the drink resembles some sort of weird space goo. 

Hunk shrugs, trying to look as encouraging as possible. “It's not as bad as it looks, Keith. Everyone here seems to love it. Honestly, I don't really understand the hype—but Adam seems to love it.” Now  _ that _ makes sense. Shiro is so whipped.

Hunk momentarily walks away to help another customer and Keith is left alone with his stupid drink. After finally deciding it’s safe enough to consume, he tentatively takes a sip, unsure of what he’ll find. It isn't as fruity as he was originally expecting, but it isn't too bad, so he decides to stick with it. The things Keith does for his brother. 

Some time passes and Keith slumps lower into his seat, resting his chin in his hand dejectedly. He knows he’s being pouty, but he  _ really _ doesn’t want to be here. What’s the point of celebrating the birthday of someone who isn't even there? Shiro will probably be wrapped up with Adam for a while. Maybe Keith should text that he isn't feeling well and leave. He could slip out of here easily and Shiro could spend time with his fiancé without feeling guilty about leaving Keith alone. It’s really a win-win situation. Keith decides to text Shiro.

**To Dad-gane: where tf are you**

Not very subtle, but Keith hopes it will get his point across. 

Suddenly, someone taps on Keith’s shoulder, startling him enough that he almost drops his phone straight into his stupid drink. He slowly turns around to see who’s bothering him, silently hoping that it’s Shiro—but is disappointed as he comes face to face with a total stranger. The man in question smiles at Keith, sliding into his personal space with practiced ease. 

“Hey there. Mind if I buy you a drink? I'd love to get to know you better.” The stranger practically purrs, leaning in even closer. 

Keith instinctively leans backward, putting a clear distance between the two of them. “Thanks,” he grits out, annoyed, “but I already have a drink.” 

Admittedly not a very good drink, but it’s a drink all the same. Even though Keith would love to ditch this fluorescent green mess, he refuses to accept anything from a creepy stranger. He just hopes this guy will leave him alone to wallow in peace. Clearly, the man does not need any more encouragement. 

The stranger glances down at Keith’s embarrassing green drink with interest, but somehow isn’t deterred in the slightest. “How about I get you a real drink? Maybe something strong.” Keith notices the way the other man’s eyes rake over his body and tries not to physically cringe, “You seem like you're a pretty tough guy.” 

“I'm fine with my drink.” Keith answers again, trying to look as intimidating as possible. The man reaches out and tries to grab his arm, but Keith rips it away as fast as possible. “Don't touch me.” He growls, “If you touch me again, I'll beat your ass.”

“That sounds pretty kinky.” He slurs, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made Keith’s skin crawl. The man opens his mouth to say something else, probably something wildly inappropriate, but Hunk thankfully steps in. First he saves Keith from Shiro’s sex talk earlier, and now this creep? Hunk is an actual superhero in Keith’s eyes. 

“Sir,” the bartender starts coldly, “you had better find some other place to be. The show is about to start.” Hunk gestures to the empty live music stage and the guy shrugs, reluctantly stepping away from Keith. Hunk isn’t taking any bullshit tonight, and for that, Keith is thankful. 

Once the man is finally gone, Keith turns to Hunk. “Thank you, man. I was this close to starting a bar fight.” The bartender laughs as Keith holds up two fingers with barely any space between them. 

“I'm sure Shiro would've loved that. He leaves for ten minutes and you already get into a fight with a drunk creep.” Reaching out to take an empty glass off the counter, he shakes his head. “Just forget about him and enjoy the show, dude. There’s a pretty good lineup tonight.” 

As if on cue, the lights in the bar dim considerably and cheering erupts from the front of the small stage. Intrigued, Keith turns around to see what all the commotion is about. People on the dance floor are now pushing forward to move closer to the small stage and get ready for the next show. They’re all forming some sort of mosh pit, buzzing with excitement, and Keith can’t help but wonder what the hell is going on. The person performing next must be some sort of regular at the bar, because the dancing crowd didn’t have this kind of reaction when the last performer sang. More people start to yell as a girl with choppy brown hair walks up onto the stage confidently. From what he can see in the dim light, she’s wearing thick glasses and a green sweater—not your typical club scene outfit. Funny enough, this girl is so small that she almost looks too young to be let inside the bar. 

The girl doesn’t spare a single glance towards the audience, walking directly to a desk that has millions of electrical cords surrounding it on the left side of the stage. The desk has a computer with speakers connected to it on either side and a guitar placed in front of it, but other than that, the table looks like it belongs in Adam’s office rather than on the little stage. Keith is interested in what she’s going to do with that kind of tech. 

Keith doesn’t have to wait much longer because soon someone else is joining her onstage, this time a lanky guy around his age. At least that’s what Keith assumes—the stage is far too dark to make out any discernible details of the performer’s face. The newcomer tinkers around with the equipment for a minute, fixing the microphone height and making sure everything is the way he likes it. It’s so dim that Keith isn’t sure how he can find everything he needs, but somehow he manages. The man turns to look back at the girl and says something that only she can hear. She rolls her eyes at him, pressing a button on her keyboard, but Keith can imagine she’s hiding a fond smile. The girl clicks a few more keys and a steady beat starts to play out of the set of double speakers in front of her. The crowd is getting excited again, jumping up and down and cheering. Tech Girl hits a few more buttons and another sound is automatically layered on top of the previous beat, creating a better and more complicated sound. 

_ So that’s what the computer is for _ , Keith notes as she adds another layer of sound. The process is so cool that Keith decides to make a mental note to find her after the performance and ask her all about it. Shiro would love this technology stuff. 

_ Shiro _ . 

Keith briefly wonders what his stupid brother is doing. He checks his texts, but there’s still no response, so Keith sighs and tucks his phone back into his jacket. Taking a quick scan around the room, he notices that Shiro is nowhere in sight. He must be off somewhere  _ canoodling _ with Adam. Whatever, he’s missing out. 

Suddenly, all the spotlights turn on at once, lighting up the stage and the singer. Because he’s so distracted by thoughts of Shiro’s location, Keith isn’t expecting such a drastic change and has to stop and rub light spots out of his eyes before he can focus on anything. Once his eyes are clear, he sees the man survey the crowd and start to sing. 

_ “Baby, I like your style.” _

Now that the stage lights are on and he’s no longer momentarily blinded, Keith can see just how handsome this guy really is. His eyes aren’t hidden behind glasses like Tech Girl’s—instead, they shine a brilliant blue as he scans over the crowd. Keith is almost taken aback by how pretty they are. Keith doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s openly checking out the performer, casually noting how the dark blue baseball tee he’s wearing compliments his eyes and how his dark jeans hug his body  _ very  _ nicely. Keith decides blue is his new favorite color. 

_ Blue-Eyed Boy _ , Keith muses, deciding it’s an appropriate nickname for the singer. It’s completely dumb and childish, Keith knows that, but he honestly couldn’t care less. Creating dumb nicknames brought him back to a time when Shiro and Keith were just little kids. In their adolescence, the two of them liked to sit on a bench in the park by their house and give people dumb nicknames as they passed. Sometimes, the two of them still played the game when they were in busy restaurants or walking down the street. Unlike most of the nicknames they gave as kids, Blue-Eyed Boy’s nickname is actually accurate.

The man’s voice is smooth and confident. Suddenly Keith understands why everyone on the dance floor is now huddled around the stage. This guy’s face may be hot, but his voice is even hotter. Keith has always been a fan of live music, so he can immediately tell that this guy is a very experienced performer. He looks unbelievably comfortable up on the stage, as if he’s completely at home in his element. 

Blue-Eyed Boy is singing some cheesy pop song that Keith has heard a thousand times on the radio, but everyone seems to eat it right up. Usually Keith just rolls his eyes and changes the station when music like this comes on the radio, choosing to ignore typical love song clichés in favor of something more his style. But, for some weird reason, Keith doesn’t really mind this performance.

Well, Keith  _ knows  _ the reason, but it isn’t like he’s going to admit it out loud to anyone. It apparently isn’t a secret that Blue-Eyed Boy is a talented singer as well as  _ very  _ easy on the eyes. So what? Keith has a weakness for cute guys who can sing. Sue him.

And this guy is  _ really cute _ . He’s so cute that Keith completely forgets about finding Shiro for a little while. Instead, he’s drawn towards watching the performance with renewed interest. Blue-Eyed Boy is grinning at the crowd as he sings and his excited energy is enough to make Keith crack a small smile of his own. 

Keith looks around the bar for Shiro and Adam again, but the couple is still nowhere to be seen. He checks the dance floor (or the “Grind Pit” Hunk calls it) but they aren’t there either.

Back in December before Adam had reopened the bar, he asked Shiro to come in to help build a new dance floor where people could listen to the live music and mingle. Shiro has always had an annoying habit of dragging Keith into doing things, so by default he  _ also _ worked on the dance floor. Tonight, the floor is full of people, most of them smiling and singing along to the lyrics. Those who aren’t singing along are aggressively grinding with a dance partner, even though the song  _ definitely  _ doesn’t call for that. The idea of grinding in the dark with a sweaty stranger is enough to make Keith cringe. Everyone seems to be having fun listening to Blue-Eyed Boy—well, maybe the couples in the Grind Pit are having a little  _ too much _ fun. Even Hunk has momentarily stopped making drinks so he can watch the performance.

By the second verse, Keith finally remembers his previous plans to escape the bar. Sure, this guy is  _ gorgeous _ , but he’s most likely aggressively straight judging by the winks he’s sending to the table of girls in the front row. And besides, as much as Keith would enjoy sitting here and drooling over Blue-Eyed Boy all night, he’s hungry and still needs to find Shiro. He could try to call or text him again, but Shiro is either way too busy to answer or doesn’t have his phone on.

Keith shakes his head, glancing around the bar again for his brother's stupid tuft of white hair or his stupid face. Still no sign of that traitor.

_ What was the point of leaving him here to fend for himself while he went off to have fun with his fiancé? _ Keith sighs, shaking his head. Shiro knows his brother doesn’t frequent bars that much because Keith hates drunk people and sweaty contact with strangers. 

He would never admit it to Shiro, but it was actually a good plan to guilt him into coming to the bar with him for his birthday. If it was any other day of the year, Keith would've scoffed and said “no thanks, but tell Adam I say hi before you start sucking his face.” And then Shiro would have turned red and mumbled something about how they didn't “suck faces” and how Keith made it sound disgusting. Which it was, of course. Keith had walked in on the two of them making out more times than he could count.

But, because it was Shiro's birthday, it meant that he could drag Keith wherever he wanted without any complaint. Why it was this place instead of anywhere else in the world, Keith has no idea. Your thirtieth birthday marks the official end of your adolescence and is the final entry into the full adult world, so it’s apparently some sort of big deal. Or at least that’s what Shiro keeps saying. 

Maybe he should just leave. Shiro is clearly off doing  _ who knows what  _ to celebrate his thirtieth birthday with Adam, so maybe he should just leave them to it. Keith rode his own motorcycle here, so he can easily slip out without being noticed. Shiro would understand if he got a text later from Keith saying he was uncomfortable or had some reason to leave. The only thing that’s really keeping him here is the slight guilt of leaving on Shiro’s birthday and Blue-Eyed Boy’s amazing performance. He glances at the singer onstage and grins softy, admiring the guy’s eyes and his smile one last time. He’s  _ really  _ attractive.

But Keith is also  _ really _ hungry, so he decides maybe it’s time to leave. It might not be the best idea to slowly starve himself just because he wants to somehow get the attention of an unattainable bar performer. It’s pathetic, really. Keith stands up from his barstool and says goodbye to Hunk, making sure he grabs his keys and jacket on the way out. While he’s turning towards the door to leave the bar, he suddenly hears something that makes him stop in his tracks.

_ “Como tú te llamas, yo no sé…” _

Keith freezes, completely caught off guard. He turns back around slowly, looking up on stage to find Blue-Eyed Boy right where he was when Keith had stood up. Except this time, he’s singing in _Spanish_. Without any hesitation, this guy had completely slipped into another language. It was practically seamless. And _really_ _hot_. 

Just when Keith thought that this stupid singer couldn't get any more attractive. Blue-Eyed Boy has this smug grin on his face that partially annoys Keith and partially makes him want to push the singer against the wall and kiss him. 

"Back already?" Hunk teases as Keith sits back down on the stool he was previously sitting on. Keith just shrugs and waves him off, turning back to focus on the performance. The knowing smile Hunk is giving him makes his face feel hot, but he ignores it nonetheless. 

Tech Girl is still pressing random keys, and Keith is 78% sure she’s creating a piano sound for the back beat of the song. Blue-Eyed Boy is still feeding off the energy of the crowd, moving around to different parts of the small stage. He tries to moonwalk, which Keith expects to be a complete disaster, but he actually pulls it off and the crowd gets even louder. 

The singer’s eyes search the crowd as he dances, and suddenly—his gaze lands right on Keith. Blue-Eyed Boy raises an eyebrow in challenge, never breaking eye contact, and Keith’s breath hitches in his throat. Keith has absolutely no idea what this guy is singing, but he’s too far gone to care.

Blue-Eyed Boy sings the next line of the song and it seems like he’s singing it directly to Keith _.  _ Everyone else in the crowded bar fades away until it’s only the two of them. 

_ “Lo único que sé es quiero con usted,”  _ Blue-Eyed Boy sings, his eyes burning holes into Keith’s, _ “Quedarme contigo hasta el amanecer.” _ Then he winks, actually  _ winks _ at Keith, with a stupid smug grin on his face. The next line of the song says something about “mamacita,” but Keith is still reeling from the wink so it doesn’t even register.

That was  _ bold _ . Maybe Keith likes this guy more than he thought.

His eyes flicker away from Keith’s and all of a sudden he’s doing something with his hips that’s absolutely  _ sinful. _ The crowd screams and whistles in approval, and Keith can’t help but agree. He decides that after tonight, he can die a happy man. 

Hunk chuckles from behind the bar as he cleans dirty glasses, taking in Keith’s red face and wide eyes. “I should’ve warned you that he’s  _ Mr. Smooth _ . Make sure to close your mouth, Keith.” 

Keith rolls his eyes but refuses to comment, knowing he’s been caught red-handed. He’s just glad Shiro isn’t here to see this. If he saw Keith  _ this  _ flustered by Blue-Eyed Boy, he would never pass up the chance to tease him for eternity over his “wittle crush.” Keith shivers at the thought.

The crowd seems equally ecstatic that Blue-Eyed Boy is singing in Spanish. People who were hanging out at the bar and avoiding the dance floor are now magnetically pulled towards it, pushing their way through the huddle around the stage. Everyone, even Keith, is bobbing his or her head to the pounding beat that Tech Girl is creating at that little desk.

_ “I need a one dance…quedarme contigo hasta el amanecer.”  _ The song ends and the crowd claps wildly as Blue-Eyed Boy and Tech Girl bow.

Their eyes meet again for a fraction of a second over the crowd and Keith immediately ducks his head, embarrassed to be caught staring at the performer. He feels stupid for looking away in such a rush. Nearly every person in the bar is staring at Blue-Eyed Boy, but Keith is just  _ really flustered _ .

A few more songs pass and Keith continues to accidentally make eye contact with the performer over the crowd. At first he thought it was just his imagination running wild, but at this point there’s almost no way that his gaze isn’t directed straight towards him. Keith is caught between keeping his eyes glued to the singer to properly oogle or staring at his drink when he’s too flustered by the sudden attention. After the final song of their set, Keith lets out a deep breath and tries to ignore the color in his cheeks. 

Keith twists in his seat to find Hunk already watching him, a small smirk on his face. “What?” He asks, hoping that Hunk won’t notice how easily he had been turned into a blushing mess. 

Apparently, he did notice. Hunk’s smirk grows into another knowing grin. “Oh, nothing.” He teases. 

Keith childishly sticks his tongue out at him, taking another sip of his drink. And he thought  _ Shiro  _ was bad. Before Keith can properly defend his honor or come up with a lame excuse, someone taps on his shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Another smooth voice purrs from behind him.  _ Not this again _ . Keith turns around to bite back with a sarcastic comment that sounds something like  _ sure, if I can splash it in your face, asshole,  _ but it dies in his throat when he sees who is actually standing behind him. Keith would recognize those stupid blue eyes anywhere. He is even prettier up close.

“Blue-Eyed Boy.” Keith blurts before he can stop himself, too surprised to think straight. He fights the urge to reach up and cover his own mouth in surprise at his sudden outburst.  _ Why does he just love to embarrass himself so much?  _ Blue-Eyed Boy looks equally as surprised at the random nickname, but doesn’t immediately turn away and leave, so Keith decides that it’s probably a good sign. Instead, the singer leans closer and smirks down at him.

“Blue-Eyed Boy, huh?” The way he says it makes Keith wish he would’ve created a better secret nickname. “I usually just go by Lance, but you can call me whatever you want, Pretty Boy.”

Keith prays that the bar is dim enough to hide the red hot flush that’s blazing across his cheeks.  _ Get ahold of yourself, Kogane. _ After finally composing himself, he levels Lance with what he hopes is an unimpressed stare. Leave it to Keith to reveal all of his flustered emotions in a single facial expression. “Like  _ Pretty Boy _ is any better.”

Keith has no idea where all this sudden confidence is coming from, especially considering that he was a blushing mess just a few minutes ago, but he decides to roll with it. Lance raises his eyebrows in response, a small smile on his face.

“Can't argue with that,” Lance shrugs and leans against the bar, fixing his gaze on Keith with a small smirk,“I never got your name. Unless you want me to keep calling you 'Pretty Boy' all night.”

Oh, he  _ definitely  _ wouldn't mind that. Keith takes a casual sip of his drink, trying to hide his smile.

“It’s Keith.” The music is so loud in the bar that he has to shout so Lance can hear him. 

“Keith.” Lance repeats with a ghost of a smirk, testing out the feel of his name. It makes Keith’s stomach lurch in a pleasant way.

A new song starts to play over the speakers and Lance smirks, leaning forward to whisper in Keith's ear over the pounding beat. His breath ghosts past his ear and Keith tries not to shiver. “Wanna dance?”

Keith's eyes drift over to the spot opened up as a makeshift dance floor and all of the  _ aggressive _ couples on it. “In the Grind Pit?”

Lance follows Keith's line of vision to the couples roughly grinding down on each other and huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “So that’s what they're calling it now?” He looks back at Keith and raises an eyebrow again, looking him up and down. “Not that I would really mind.”

The wink that he tacks on the end is almost enough to make Keith jump him right there.  _ Maybe later _ , he decides, smirking and downing the rest of his drink in one go. Maybe grinding with a stranger wouldn't be as bad as he originally thought.

Keith opens his mouth to say  _ Let's go then, Blue Eyes,  _ but someone clears their throat behind them, cutting off any flirty comment that either of them could’ve said. Keith doesn’t even have to turn around to know exactly who it is.  _ Perfect timing, as usual. _

Shiro stands behind them now, a small smirk on his face as he notices the small distance between the two of them. It’s just like his brother to disappear for hours and then come back the one time that Keith is actually getting somewhere with a guy. One time, when he was a teenager, Keith brought a boyfriend home and Shiro somehow ruined  _ all _ of their attempts at making out. And they tried  _ fifteen different times.  _ Whether the interruptions were accidental or intentional, Shiro always had a knack for crushing Keith's hopes for romance. He always had a sneaking suspicion that the interruptions were all on purpose. Keith never heard from that high school boyfriend again. 

Keith huffs out a sigh, leveling Shiro with a subtle glare. Lance, probably thinking that Shiro is some sort of ex-boyfriend or something, looks at Keith with a concerned expression. He somehow manages to communicate a concerned  _ “am I intruding on anything,”  _ through a simple facial expression. It’s so sweet and thoughtful that Keith almost reaches out to kiss his stupid face. He shakes his head, deciding to introduce his brother quickly so they can get back to dancing,“This is my older brother, Shiro. Shiro, this is Lance. He was performing a little while ago.” Lance visibly relaxes next to him when he introduces him as his brother and Keith tries not to think it’s too cute.

Shiro's easy smile widens and Keith already knows it means trouble. “Lance, huh? You were great up there!” He reaches over and slaps the performer on the back, jostling him a little bit, “You know, Keith loves live music! And cute guys who can sing! So, it seems you two are—“

Keith's eyes widen as he hurriedly cuts off his brother. “Shiro! Why don't you go find Adam and stick your tongue down his throat or something?”

“Keith! I don't—We don't—” Shiro stutters, flushing bright red. They stare at each other with narrow eyes for a moment, locked in a dead heat.  _ Please, please, please don't mess this up for me, Shiro. Go away.  _

His brother seems to understand Keith’s silent plea for privacy and sighs, completely exasperated. “Just call me if you need me, Keith. Have fun.” He waves goodbye to the pair and starts to walk away, presumably to find Adam once again.

Keith can feel the liquid courage racing through his veins and makes a split-second decision to call after Shiro to stop him. “Actually,” Keith says, grabbing Lance's hand, “I think we're leaving. Right, Lance?” The performer, clearly shocked by Keith’s sudden outburst, stares dumbly back at him. 

“We are?” He echoes, looking confused.

“You are?” Shiro echoes, looking more skeptical than confused.

“Lance offered to buy me a drink but I think I'm going to cash in that promise for a milkshake instead.” Keith tells Shiro, gripping Lance’s hand. Remembering that it’s Lance who is supposedly treating him, he turns to look at the other man. “If that's alright with you?”

Lance still appears to be pretty stunned, but nods along anyway. “Milkshakes are good.”

Shiro shrugs. “I don't know why you would pass up alcohol for a milkshake, but okay. You two better be careful. Call me if anything happens.” Keith wants to add a sarcastic  _ Sure thing, dad, _ but he thinks better of it after his stomach growls. 

Ready to get some food, Keith nods and turns to Lance, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “I'll drive. Let's go, I'm starving.”

He drags Lance away by his hand, passing by the bar and the large crowd until they’re through the door. Once two of them are finally outside in the night air, Lance finally speaks up.

“So, if I'm buying you a milkshake, does this count as a first date?” He drawls and Keith freezes in realization. 

Lance is teasing him and still holding his hand, which is a very good sign, but Keith still momentarily panics. Now that he’s outside, he can finally process what he just did and said to his brother.  _ Did he actually just plan a date with a stranger just to get away from Shiro and his teasing?  _ Keith didn't even ask Lance if he was actually okay with leaving the bar to go get milkshakes! What if he had plans with Tech Girl or someone else? 

“Shit!” Keith exclaims, dropping Lance's hand like it burned him. “I-I didn't even really ask if you wanted to leave! I just wanted to get away from my brother and I—I'm sorry! You don't have to—”

Lance’s flirty smirk drops off his face, quickly replaced by a look of concern as soon as Keith starts apologizing. He rushes to stop Keith from freaking out in the middle of the bar parking lot. “Woah, Keith! Slow down there. I didn't mind at all! It was really ballsy, actually. You just took charge and it was—it was really hot.” Lance reaches out to grab his hand again and Keith practically melts into a puddle on the spot.  _ God, since when was he such a sap?  _

“Oh.” Keith mumbles. The only thing he can concentrate on is the fact that Lance just called him  _ hot _ . “Let's go then.” 

Keith is also still very aware that they’re holding hands. He’s so focused on the feeling of Lance’s hand, in fact, that Keith jumps a mile in the air when the other man nudges him to get his attention. “So, your brother is dating Adam? The owner of the Galaxy Garrison?”

“That’s his fiancé, actually. They've been together for practically a million years. He finally found the courage to propose last June, and now they're all over each other 24/7.” Keith pauses, rolling his eyes, “It would be gross if they weren't so stupidly perfect for each other.”

“So if Adam and Shiro have been dating for 'a million years,' how come this is my first time seeing you?” Lance says, “I would’ve remembered a face as pretty as yours.”

Keith flushes all the way down to his toes, but tries to play it off by rolling his eyes. Damn, this guy is  _ smooth. _ “That's so cheesy.” He insists, shaking his head.

Lance grins at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if you were a cheese, I wouldn't want you to be  _ Prov-alone _ .”

“Oh no.” Keith groans. 

“Don't worry, Keith, I can show you a  _ Gouda _ time.”

“Don't make me rethink this whole milkshake date.” Keith warns, but there’s no real threat behind it. He would be lying if he said he didn't think his stupid puns were cute. 

“Aha!” Lance shouts, pointing his finger at Keith with a goofy smile on his face, “So this _ is _ a date!”

“Lance.” Keith warns again, stopping in front of a parking spot and jingling his keys. Lance stops next to him, a smug grin still on his face. 

“Fine, fine!” Lance relents, but he’s still grinning from ear to ear. “So, which one is your ride?” He asks, looking at all of the surrounding cars. 

“Here she is,” Keith says, gesturing to the motorcycle directly in front of them, “I think I have a second helmet so—”

“Woah, woah, woah! You—” Lance pauses, staring at the motorcycle with a strange expression. His mouth is wide open as he steps towards the bike. Keith is suddenly very anxious about his mode of transportation, which has never happened before. Keith  _ really _ wants Lance to like his bike.

_ You idiot!  _ the voice in the back of Keith’s head chimes,  _ What if he doesn't feel comfortable on motorcycles? Or what if he has an intense fear of them? What if— _

“ —this has got to be the most badass thing I've ever seen.” Lance says in awe, effectively cutting off any terrified thoughts Keith was having. He walks around Keith's bike slowly, inspecting every inch of it and running his hands over the cherry red paint coat. Lance turns to stare at him, studying him once again with wide eyes. “Could you honestly get any hotter?” 

_ Holy shit _ . “Uh—” Keith flounders. How is he supposed to respond to something like  _ that? _

Luckily, Lance saves him from embarrassing himself too much. “Don't answer that. I like surprises.” He winks again, a flirty smile present on his face. 

That’s already the third time Lance has winked at him tonight and he is  _ not okay _ . Keith doesn’t know how the hell he’s going to drive his bike properly with his heart beating this fast. 

_ Play it cool, Keith.  _

“Just get on the damn bike, Lance.” He sighs, pretending to sound exasperated, and hands over his second helmet. It’s a good thing Keith had given Shiro a ride earlier that week, or else he wouldn’t have had a second helmet with him. 

“Feisty.” Lance teases, putting on the helmet and hopping on the back of his bike.

Keith’s stomach growls again. You know what sounds good right about now?  _ McDonald’s _ . He turns to look back at Lance who has just settled behind him, laughing when their helmets clacked together because of their close proximity. “Hey, would you mind going to get some fast food instead? I’m starving and I could use something greasy.”

Lance scoots closer, purring in his ear. “I’m up for anything as long as it’s with you, darli—hey!” Keith revs his engine and pulls away, effectively cutting off whatever flirty thing Lance was going to say. The last thing Keith hears before he pulls onto the open road is the sound of Lance’s indignant shriek and the warm feeling of his arms gripping tighter around his waist.

But,  _ apparently _ , the universe never wants Keith to have the last laugh. 

“If you wanted me to hold onto you tighter, you could’ve just said so, Pretty Boy.” Keith is so surprised by Lance’s sudden seductive whisper in his ear that he almost swerves right off the road. Keith is  _ not _ going to survive this date if Lance keeps up with all these comments. For now, he just has to focus on the road and ignore the feeling of Lance pressed up against him. 


	2. McFlurries and Kidz Bop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, the tables are sticky and there’s a kid screaming in the corner even though it’s almost four in the morning at McDonald's, but Keith still thinks this is the best kinda-date ever.

Riding his motorcycle is easily one of Keith’s favorite things, and somehow, having Lance riding on the back makes the experience even better. As a kid, Keith always had an intense fascination with speed—always striving to go faster and faster. But tonight, he doesn’t mind going as slow as possible if it means he has more time like this with Lance. As he pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot, Keith pretends not to notice that Lance kept his arms wrapped tightly around his torso for the entire ride. It makes his heart flutter in an embarrassing way. 

Lance swings his leg over the bike, ripping off his helmet to show his bright smile. Keith notices that his hair is all mussed and sticking up in several places. It’s  _ very  _ endearing. “Dude, that was awesome!” Lance practically yells, smoothing down pieces of his hair, “You are officially the driver for all of our other impromptu snack runs.”

_ Our _ . Keith attempts to hide an excited smile behind his helmet at the promise in Lance’s words.

“Sounds good to me,” he shrugs in a way that he hopes comes across as nonchalant instead of giddy, hopping off his bike easily, “Let’s eat! I’m starving.” 

Lance hums in agreement and the pair walks towards the entrance of McDonald’s. Being the gentleman that he is, Lance opens the door for Keith with an exaggerated bow and a quiet “After you, sir.”  _ This is not a proper date, _ the voice in Keith’s head reminds him as he jokingly curtsies to Lance in response. After the other man practically beams at him, the voice chimes in again.  _ On second thought, maybe this could be a date, _ it decides. Keith wants to agree more than anything. Sure, this isn’t the romantic first date that most teenage girls dream of, but the fact that it’s with a guy like Lance is enough for Keith. He doesn’t know when he became so easy to please. 

Instead of dwelling on thoughts of this kinda-sorta-not-date date, Keith decides to walk directly to the counter and place his order for his meal. He definitely prefers to focus on the growling of his stomach than confront the possibility of budding feelings or a future relationship with Lance. 

“I’ll have a chicken nugget Happy Meal with apples and an M&M McFlurry, please. And a large fry.” Keith says, sliding the money over to the woman behind the counter. She looks incredibly exhausted—which makes sense considering the fact that they’re stumbling into McDonald’s at an ungodly hour of the night.  _ Oops.  _

“No, no, no!” Lance interrupts, sliding up next to Keith and slapping his hand on the counter. The woman doesn’t even flinch at his outburst, just rolls her eyes and looks between them. “I'm paying, Keith.” 

Keith sighs. “Lance, I know you offered to buy me a drink, but you don't actually have to. I'm the one who suggested McDonald's in the first place.” 

Lance tugs on Keith’s sleeve, pouting. “I can't let my  _ date _ pay for their own meal! What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't pay for your Happy Meal? My mother would kill me.” 

“You're really hung up on this  _ date _ thing, huh?” Keith teases, trying to ignore the butterflies in the pit of his stomach.    


“Well, it's not every day I get the opportunity to take out the prettiest guy at the Galaxy Garrison.” 

“S-shut up! I'm not—” How the hell does he just  _ do  _ that? No matter what Keith says, Lance already has a smooth response to fire back at him that leaves him feeling all mushy. Right now, Keith is way too flustered to care. God, he wishes he could give Lance a taste of his own medicine. According to Shiro, Keith “couldn't flirt his way out of a paper bag.”

While he’s distracted and trying to process those comments, Lance snatches his money back and gives the woman some of his own in its place. “Here you go, ma'am! Please take my money!” 

“Lance—”

“Your change is five dollars and twenty-nine cents. Enjoy.” She answers, completely monotone, as she hands Lance a few bills and loose change in return. She also hands him Keith’s receipt, which Lance studies with interest. 

When Keith reaches for it, Lance looks up at him with a large grin. “You ordered an M&M McFlurry?”

Keith scoffs, trying to snatch the receipt back. “I don’t need your judgement, Blue Eyes.”

“No, Keith!” Lance shakes his head and grabs Keith’s hands, pulling him closer, “An M&M McFlurry? I think you’re my  _ soulmate _ .”

Keith’s brain automatically short-circuits. Of course, he  _ knows  _ that Lance is joking and doesn’t actually mean it. He isn’t stupid! Keith  _ knows _ in his mind that this stupid little statement doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a harmless joke about the two of them having the same interests—not a confirmation of undying love. And judging by the teasing smile on his face, Lance thinks it’s pretty funny as well. Keith  _ knows _ all these things, but he still can’t ignore the way his heart does a little dance in his chest when he hears it.

Keith tries to play it off like he isn’t about to melt into a pile of goo. “Y-yeah. Nothing beats M&Ms!”  _ God, that was so lame. _ Keith really wishes he could just crawl into a hole and die sometimes.

Lance, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice how painfully awkward Keith is and drops his hands with a laugh. “You’ve got that right.”

Lance walks up to the counter to order his own food, but Keith is too busy silently panicking to listen. Lance somehow manages to always catch him off guard.  _ “Nothing beats M&Ms.” How stupid is that? Lance was just joking around and— _

Keith jumps as his phone suddenly buzzes inside his jacket, cutting off any more cynical thoughts. Grumbling, he fishes the stupid device out of his pocket to check his notifications...only to find five texts from Shiro.

**From Dad-gane: Just saw your other text right now…oops**

**From Dad-gane: Have fun on your date with Laaaaance :)**

**From Dad-gane: Remember when we were walking into the bar and I said you could get laid tonight? Because I do :)))**

Ah, yes. The cocky side-smiley—a Shiro trademark. Keith rolls his eyes. 

**From Dad-gane: First of all: you’re welcome and second of all—**

Keith doesn’t get the chance to finish reading the last text because Lance abruptly puts a hand on his shoulder, scaring him so much that he nearly jumps out of his skin. “You okay?” Lance asks when he finally settles down, “You had a weird look on your face.”

“I’m fine,” Keith answers, flushing as he thinks of Shiro’s texts, “I-I’m just really hungry. What did you order?”

Lance walks over to grab a huge pile of napkins for the two of them, “A Bacon Ranch Grilled Chicken Salad and a small McFlurry, of course.” 

Keith levels him with an unimpressed stare. “A salad? At McDonald's?"   


“I don't have this excellent physique because I eat McDonald's chicken nuggets at two in the morning, Keith.” Well, he’s probably right in that respect. Keith sneaks a quick glance at Lance's physique, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He really hopes Lance doesn’t notice, but he just can’t help himself at this point. The other man does  _ not _ need any extra ammo to boost his already inflated ego. 

Unfortunately for Keith, Lance notices. His smirk grows considerably as he leans in closer, right next to Keith's ear, and whispers, “I could show you more of my physique if you want, Pretty Boy—“ 

“—Number 22, your order is ready!” The woman at the front counter calls, holding out a tray of food with a bright red Happy Meal box.

“That’s me.” Keith squeaks, slowly slipping away from his spot next to Lance. He grabs his tray, thanking the woman, and turns back around to find that Lance has already gone to find a booth to camp out in. Keith attempts to slow his rapid heartbeat before walking towards the table. 

When he sets his tray down in the spot Lance had chosen (a back corner booth, Keith notices—good taste), the other man shows no sign of remembering the weirdly intimate moment that happened next to the straws and napkins. Instead, Lance sits carefree in the booth, lounging with his back against the wall and his long legs taking up the rest of his bench. His feet hang off the edge, bobbing to the beat of the soft pop song playing over the speakers. Lance reaches over and swipes a single fry from Keith’s tray, taking a bite while he waits for his own number to be called. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait too long. 

When Lance comes back with his own order, Keith decides to speak up and take a bit of a chance. “Lance, I just realized I don't really know that much about you. Other than the fact that you sing and you have a thing for horrible cheese-related puns, of course.” 

“And the fact that I'm  _ ridiculously _ hot.” Lance smirks, “don't forget that.” 

Keith rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “How could I forget?” Lance perks up a little after that, but doesn't say anything else. He probably thinks that Keith is being sarcastic. Keith  _ wishes _ he was just being sarcastic. There’s really no way he can forget how ridiculously hot Lance is. 

“You're right, dude, we barely know anything interesting about each other.” He frowns and picks at his salad for a minute before instantly brightening. Keith can almost imagine the lightbulb shining over his head. “Keith, I got it! Let's play a question game! Fifty questions.” 

“A question game? What are we, fifth graders?” 

“I'm going to choose to ignore that. Anyway, I'll go first and start with something simple.” Lance pretends to tap his chin in thought, “What's your favorite color?” 

“Red.” 

“That's a good choice,” Lance nods solemnly, “But it isn't as good as blue. I’m going to have to deduct points off your answer.” 

Keith crosses his arms, staring at Lance's stupid grin from across the table incredulously. “You've got to be kidding me! What's so good about blue?” 

“It's the color of everything amazing in life: the ocean, the sky, Uranus, blue raspberry slushies! The list is endless!” 

“Uranus is one of the most amazing things in life?” Keith asks, unconvinced. As soon as he sees the way Lance's mouth curls into a satisfied grin and fully processes what he just said, Keith realizes his mistake. “Wait! No—!”

Lance places his hand over his heart and wipes a fake tear away from his eye. “You think my anus is one of the most amazing things in life? Keith, I’m flattered! I'm blushing!”   
  
“I hate you.” Keith answers, but he doesn’t really mean it.

Lance rests his forehead on the table, trying and failing to contain his laughter. When he looks back up at Keith, there are visible tears in his eyes from laughing. “Oh my god—” He gasps, shaking his head, “You walked right into that one, buddy.” 

“Well, red has—“ Keith tries to think of something positive that’s red, but immediately draws a blank. What was there to choose from? Blood? His motorcycle? Not a lot of good choices to choose from “—shut up, Lance.”

Trying to muffle his laughter, he gestures to Keith wildly. “Your turn, Pretty Boy.”

Keith hates being put on the spot, so he tries to quickly think of something he wants to know about Lance. After coming up with a list of over a hundred possible options in less than five seconds, he decides to settle on a safe question. “What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

Lance nods in approval at the question, leaning back in the booth to think of a good answer. “I would—I would probably say leaving people out, you know? No one likes feeling left out, so when people do it—I don’t know, it just makes me mad.” Lance’s answer is so sincere that Keith can’t help but grin. Cute. 

The next few questions follow a similar pattern and Keith is shocked by how comfortable he is hanging out with Lance. He feels more content than he has in ages, which is strange considering the circumstances. The Keith who entered the bar earlier tonight would have never expected to be in this position. But here he is, sitting in a McDonald’s at two in the morning with a stranger he had met earlier that night. This is so far out of his usual comfort zone that he should be on edge or preparing to leave, but this kinda-sorta-not-date date with Lance somehow feels completely natural. He laughs at all of Lance’s dumb attempts at jokes and shoots back sassy comebacks the same way he would with someone he has known all his life. He never thought it was possible for someone he met at a bar to impact his life so much in just one night. Before he knows it, the two of them have already covered twenty questions and Keith's face hurts from smiling so much. His stomach no longer hurts because of hunger pains—now, only his abs ache from hunching over and laughing so much. Who knew he was going to get a full workout after only one night with Lance?  
  
“Okay,” Lance begins again, stirring his dessert, “What were you really into as a kid? Like what was your _thing_?” By this time, their meals are practically finished so they decide to skip ahead and enjoy their McFlurries. Keith looks up from stirring his ice cream, eyebrows raised in confusion.  
  
“My thing?” 

“Yes, Keith! The one thing that you were really into as a kid!” Lance rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated, “Every single kid has a  _ thing _ .” 

Keith shrugs, chewing thoughtfully on an M&M. What the hell was his thing? He went through a lot of phases when he was younger, including an embarrassing emo phase, but that wasn’t really his  _ thing _ . “Well, I mean—I was really into Spider-Man when I was kid. Does that count as a thing?” 

“Spider-Man?” The other man grins, leaning forward in his seat eagerly. Now  _ that _ is something Lance can get behind.    


“Y-yeah.” Keith stutters, his face turning pink to match the tips of his ears. He can’t believe he’s actually telling Lance about his childhood superhero fascination. This guy can easily get any information he wants out of Keith. And the worst part is, he’s more than willing to give most of it up—no matter how embarrassing. If it can make Lance smile or laugh like that again, he’ll blurt out even his deepest, darkest secrets. And that thought is terrifying as well as thrilling. “I had everything. Spider-Man posters, pajamas, action figures—the whole lot. I've always wanted to try the suit on.”

Keith thinks his haphazard confession is harmless—which it should be—but on the inside, Lance is dying. In his embarrassment, he doesn’t notice the red hot blush on Lance’s face caused by painfully attractive mental images of Keith wearing a skin-tight Spider-Man suit.

Lance gulps. “O-oh. That's—” His voice comes out as a squeak so he decides to try again, pushing away thoughts of Spider-Man kisses and red spandex. “That's not stupid at all! You should—you should do that." 

Keith's eyes widen a little bit at his squeak. Lance is  _ really _ cute and it’s far too distracting. Like the stubborn child he is, Keith chooses to ignore the heat on his face in favor of asking Lance another question. “Okay, my turn. Who's your favorite superhero?”

“Marvel or DC?” 

Keith hasn’t thought that far ahead, so he decides to compromise. “Pick one from each universe.” 

“I can respect that.” Lance answers, tilting his head back to think of a good answer. Keith can’t help but notice the way his lips purse in concentration while he mindlessly taps the other end of his spoon against the table. He really needs to stop secretly admiring Lance as he tries to answer questions. Keith has to physically tear his eyes away. “I'm gonna have to say Flash for DC, for sure. And maybe—damn, I don't know—maybe Black Widow for Marvel? She's a total badass and doesn't get enough attention. Plus she's  _ beautiful _ .”

Keith's stomach drops a little bit after hearing the last part, remembering all the girls Lance winked at during his performance at the bar. He momentarily panics, jumping to the worst possible conclusion. Keith is already feeling all these weird feelings for Lance and he doesn’t even know for sure if he’s into guys! Maybe he’s been reading the signs wrong all night. Keith was just starting to think this was an actual date. What if Lance was only joking earlier?

“Why? Do you have a crush on her or something?” Keith asks. He means for it to sound teasing, but his tone isn’t as light as he wants it to be. It sounds a little jealous, which is stupid, because he _definitely_ isn’t jealous of a fictional heroine.   
  
Lance studies him for a long moment before stirring his McFlurry. “Yeah, she's pretty cute, but I've always had a crush on Captain America.” Oh. _Oh_. “Me too.” Keith mutters, too flustered to say much else. Captain America is a very attractive guy. _Of the male gender._   
  
Lance cocks his eyebrow at Keith, watching him with a ghost of a smirk on his face. “Really? Well, I guess I have some competition then.” 

And how the hell was Keith supposed to respond to  _ that _ ? He was not prepared for Lance to be this smooth. This whole night, Lance has been calm and confident while Keith has spent most of the time as a flustered mess. He needs to think of a really good question that will catch Lance by surprise. Taking a much needed deep breath, Keith decides to ask the question that has been on his mind all night. 

“For that song you sang tonight—you were looking at me while you sang one of those lines. But it was in Spanish so I—I have no idea what it meant.” Keith shrugs his shoulders and laughs nervously, “What did it mean? It’s okay if you don’t remember, I just—“

“ _ Lo único que sé es quiero con usted, quedarme contigo hasta el amanecer.”  _ Lance repeats the lyric slowly, his eyes never leaving Keith’s. 

“Y-yeah. That one.” Keith’s chest feels tight. Suddenly he’s so nervous, teetering on the edge of his seat. Is he having a heart attack?

_ “The only thing I know is I want to be with you and stay with you until dawn.”  _ Lance mumbles, not meeting Keith’s eyes for the first time that night. His face is very obviously beet-red. Keith’s heart soars. 

“Well, you know, if we stay here a little while longer, it’ll be dawn.” Keith answers, voice sounding a little strangled and breathless. He wants to be angry that a stupid lyric is having this much of an effect on him, but he can’t. Because this is  _ Lance _ sitting across the table from him, and this is  _ Lance _ flushed bright red as he whispers Spanish love song lyrics across the table. At any other time, Keith might feel pathetic for thinking his heart is ready to beat out of his chest. But in this moment, it’s the only reaction that truly makes sense. 

Lance meets his eyes slowly, an eyebrow raised, and smirks. “That’s not exactly what the lyrics were referring to, you know.” 

It takes every fiber of Keith’s being not to lunge over this table and let Lance have his way with him right now. He wants to climb this boy like a goddamn tree. But they’re in a  _ restaurant _ . A public area. And even though it’s past three in the morning now, there are at least two other customers in the eating area that probably wouldn’t appreciate the show Keith is planning to put on. “You know,” Keith drawls, suddenly feeling confident, “we could—“ 

Before Keith can even offer, the Kidz Bop version of "Thrift Shop" begins to blast out of his phone speaker, effectively destroying any sexual tension that was blazing between them seconds before. Keith groans, shaking his head and staring at the ceiling.  _ Why the hell did this always happen? _

Lance laughs outwardly, nodding towards Keith’s vibrating phone. “Are you gonna answer that?”

“I would prefer not to.” Kidz Bop "Thrift Shop" is a specially customized ringtone choice, and Keith knows exactly who is on the other line. After a few more rings, the call ends and Keith breathes a sigh of relief, turning back to Lance. But, because the universe hates him, the victory is short-lived. Keith’s phone immediately starts ringing again, blasting that stupid ringtone.  _ Curse you, Kidz Bop.  _

Lance grins, gathering up all the trash off the table. “I’ll go throw this trash away and you can answer that, okay?”

Annoyed, Keith clicks the answer button as he watches Lance walk away. “What the fuck, Shiro?” 

“Keith!” His brother practically shouts, “You’re okay, right? I was worried that—“

“Shiro, calm down! I’m fine. I’m just at McDonald’s with Lance.” 

Shiro sighs. “Yeah, but it’s past three in the morning! I assumed you would be home by now. I know I should’ve just listened to Adam when he told me that Lance was a great guy and everything, but I was just worried! And I know you don’t need a babysitter, but—“

Keith shakes his head, rolling his eyes fondly. Shiro is such a  _ dad _ . He’s really lucky to have such a caring older brother in his life. But even though Keith knows that Shiro was just worried about him and his safety with a guy who was practically a stranger, he can’t help but feel a little annoyed that Shiro had ruined such a big moment. Just the thought of everything that  _ could’ve happened _ is enough to make Keith’s heart pound. “Shiro, I’m fine. I was actually doing really, really,  _ really _ well until you called so if you could just not call again that would be—“

Instantly, Shiro sobers up at the end of the line. Keith can practically hear the smirk he has on his dumb little face through the receiver. “Really, really,  _ really _ well? Was my sweet, innocent baby brother about to get dirty with the attractive bar performer? Well, no wonder you didn’t answer my text!” 

“Oh god,” Keith chokes, quickly looking to see if Lance is anywhere around. Even though the other man wouldn’t be able to hear Shiro’s teasing if he was there, just having Lance around while his brother torments him over the phone would be excruciatingly painful. “Shiro!” Keith whines, his face flaming. 

Shiro is practically cackling on the other end of the line, gasping for air and ignoring Adam’s concerned questions about his mental stability. “Adam, honey, I’m fine! I just—I was apparently worried for nothing. It turns out that Keith and Lance are getting along  _ very _ well.” 

Keith kind of wants to bash his head in with a McDonald’s tray. Shiro will never let him live this down. But, if enduring all this teasing lets him keep hanging out with Lance like this, he’s willing to endure it. Keith is much more concerned with what Lance thinks of him than what Shiro thinks of him. He really hopes Lance isn’t uncomfortable or not having a good time with him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith sees Lance grabbing several handfuls of napkins and smiles fondly, ignoring Shiro’s labored breath and muffled laughter. It’s insane that Keith is already thinking fondly of small things Lance is doing after only one date. He can’t imagine how sappy he’ll be if this becomes a regular thing. Going on stupid dates and talking until sunrise? Keith can definitely get used to this—especially if it’s with Lance. 

“I’m hanging up now.” Keith decides, not willing to risk the possibility of Lance returning while he’s still on the phone with Shiro, “If you call me again, I will shave off your stupid white tuft of hair while you sleep. Don’t make me do it, Shiro, you know I will.” 

That makes Shiro laugh even harder, but he agrees nonetheless. “Fine, fine! Goodbye, Keith. Don’t do something I wouldn’t do.” 

As he finally hangs up the phone, Lance walks back to the table, now carrying a fresh order of fries. Keith grins up at him, praying that he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels on the inside. “Hungry again?” 

“Well,” Lance hums, sliding back into the booth and setting the tray of fries between them, “since we’re apparently planning to be here until dawn, I decided we needed the proper snack reinforcements.” 

Keith almost wants to cry in relief that the moment they had before didn’t ruin their kinda-sorta-not-date date. “Excellent idea.” Keith comments, popping a fry into his mouth and basking in the way Lance smiles at him. 

“Nice ringtone, by the way.” Lance smirks, dipping his fry carefully in some ketchup, “Is that Kidz Bop?” 

“Yeah,” Keith shakes his head, grinning at the thought, “I set that as Shiro’s ringtone and he absolutely despises it. One day, when I was younger, I walked in on Shiro recording an audition tape for the Kidz Bop Kids. I just opened the door and saw him there—dancing around and rapping to fake Macklemore lyrics—and I haven’t let him forget that I saw it since. It’s been almost thirteen years. Obviously as soon as I got my first phone, I immediately set it as his customized ringtone. And I promise it’ll stay that way until the day I die.” 

By the end of his explanation, Lance is practically in tears. Both of them are forced to stop eating the fries altogether for a few moments in fear of one of them laughing too hard and choking. 

Sure, the tables are sticky and there’s a kid screaming in the corner even though it’s almost four in the morning at McDonald's, but Keith still thinks this is the best kinda-date ever.

A few more questions pass as they finish their extra fries, and by that time, the sun is slowly peeking out above the horizon. They grin, both joking about how they’ve finally made it past dawn. It feels like an intimate inside joke between the two of them, which makes Keith’s stomach twist in a pleasant way. After throwing away their extra garbage, Lance checks his phone and is shocked to find over twenty-seven missed calls from his friend Pidge. 

“Tech Girl?” Keith asks, not really sure what a “Pidge” is. He assumes that Lance is referring to the small girl who worked the computer onstage with him. 

Lance shakes his head, running his hand down his face to hide his fond smile. “Is that a nickname for the girl who performed with me? Because we really need to work on your nickname game. First Blue-Eyed Boy And now Tech Girl? Both are tragic.” 

“Pretty Boy isn’t much better!” Keith answers, pushing Lance’s shoulder jokingly. 

“I guess you got me there, Kogane.” Lance laughs, tipping his head back, and Keith takes a moment to admire the column of his throat. “Although, it is  _ very _ fitting.” 

Keith’s jaw drops. How the hell does he do that? Lance smirks as Keith stands there speechless, because that’s the kind of smooth asshole he is. “Asshole.” He mutters, echoing his thoughts, which makes Lance laugh even harder. 

Once his laughter finally subsides, Lance checks his phone one more time and frowns. “I should probably get back to the Galaxy Garrison and then get home before Pidge has a heart attack or throttles me. Probably both.”

Keith would be lying if he said he isn’t a little disappointed that his night with Lance is finally over, but he knows that heading back to the bar is probably the best idea for both of them. He’s going to get an earful from Shiro when he eventually gets home, and from what Lance has told him about Pidge, he wouldn’t be getting off any easier. 

The ride back to the bar is much like the ride to McDonald's, with Lance clutching Keith tightly and Keith trying to focus on the road or avoid swooning (Spoiler alert: he’s somewhat unsuccessful). Once they finally pull into the Galaxy Garrison’s parking lot, Lance jumps off onto the pavement and hands Keith his helmet, flashing the same exhilarated smile from their first ride together. 

When Keith doesn’t immediately cut the engine, Lance reaches out and grabs Keith’s wrist to stop him from leaving. “Hey, hold on a sec! We both have one more question left.” 

Keith chuckles, shaking his head and turning off his bike. “You were actually keeping count?” 

“You can’t play a fifty question game without doing fifty questions.” Lance smirks, sitting on the curb and patting the spot next to him. Once Keith is fully settled, Lance nudges his shoulder. “You go first.” 

If this is his last question, what else does Keith have to lose? Here goes nothing. “Were you serious about this being a date? Or was that just a joke, because—”

Lance quickly places his hand on Keith’s knee, effectively shutting him up. His mind goes blank.  _ Hand. Knee. Hand. Knee. _ “I was definitely serious, Keith. I took one look at you sitting at the bar, pouting with that stupid neon green drink, and I thought to myself: that guy is a total catch.” 

Keith shoves Lance lightly, shaking his head. “I’m serious, Lance.” 

“I’m serious too, Keith.” He mocks, raising his voice a few octaves to poorly mimic Keith’s whining. 

“I don’t sound like that, idiot.” He grumbles, crossing his arms. 

“Hey,” Lance nudges him again, eyes softening in an earnest expression, “I already told you. Why would I joke about wanting to date the most attractive guy at the Galaxy Garrison?” Keith tentatively meets his eyes, suddenly shy, and sees that Lance is being genuine. He feels like he’s about to explode. 

“Oh.” Keith’s brain is short-circuiting as he tries to process this new information.  _ He said you were attractive and implied that he wants to date you _ , his mind helpfully repeats, but Keith can hardly believe it. This has to be the Universe playing some sort of sick joke on him. 

The combination of Lance’s words and his handsome face under the hazy streetlights is somewhat intoxicating. Before Keith knows it, he finds himself slowly leaning forward. It’s almost like his body is moving on its own accord, ignoring his brain’s blasting alarms telling him to slow down. 

Lance, flustered by his own honest admittance, doesn’t even notice Keith slowly leaning towards him. Gone is the confident smooth talker who always has a flirty comeback. Now, after his large moment of vulnerability, Lance is too busy staring at his own shoes to realize Keith making a subtle advancement. 

In his obliviousness, Lance hurriedly asks, “It’s my turn, right?” 

Keith jumps backwards, confused and embarrassed. When Lance refuses to look at him, he feels his heart sink. Lance must’ve seen him making a move and decided to change the subject to let Keith down easily. How could he be so stupid? Keith should’ve known it was too good to be true. 

Humiliated, Keith shrinks away, putting on a fake smirk to hide the hurt of rejection. “Yeah, it’s your turn, Blue Eyes.” His voice sounds pathetically hollow, which he silently curses himself for.  _ Don’t let him know you’re upset _ , his brain chides. In an attempt to cover his embarrassing slip up, Keith weakly tries for a joke. “Last question, better make it count.” 

Lance hums, lifting his blue eyes to search Keith’s face slowly. Whatever he’s looking for, Keith thinks, he must have found. Next thing he knows, Lance is grabbing his hand and taking a shaky breath. “Uh—” Lance licks his lips, looking anywhere but Keith. 

Keith grimaces. This must be the part where Lance attempts to reject him nicely. “Lance? I—” He begins, bracing himself for the impact of what Lance is going to say next. Keith is not ready to hear the full ‘You’re Really Cool, But I’m Not Interested In That Way’ speech. He’s heard it plenty of different times from various guys throughout his life, and Keith really doesn’t want this to be one of those times. 

Lance, as always, never fails to completely catch him off guard. 

“Can I kiss you?” Lance asks quietly, tentatively leaning closer until their faces are mere inches apart. 

That was  _ not _ what Keith was expecting. Lance, perfect and flirty, wants to kiss  _ him _ . The heavy sense of dread in the pit of his stomach immediately dissipates, replaced by relief and an embarrassing amount of giddiness. “Please.” Keith manages to squeak, his head spinning from the quick change of events. He feels like he could get whiplash from the emotional turbulence of the last ten minutes. 

Luckily, Keith doesn’t have time to be embarrassed by his flustered squeak or worry about where to put his hands. Seconds later, Lance is grinning and closing the gap and  _ wow _ . This guy is really making his last question count. Keith has plenty of kissing experience with past-boyfriends and games of spin the bottle gone awry, but Lance is by far the best kisser he has ever had the pleasure of making out with. Lance expertly tilts his head and pulls him impossibly closer, running his hands through Keith’s dark hair in a way that makes them both groan quietly. His skin is tingling whenever Lance touches him, and Keith just can’t get enough. The whole night has been leading up to this moment, from the second the two of them locked eyes over the crowd. Keith feels dizzy, intoxicated by the taste of Lance’s lips and the feeling of his hand cupping the side of his face tenderly. 

Realizing they’re making out in a bar parking lot at an ungodly time in the morning, Keith reluctantly pulls back, smiling fondly as Lance blindly leans forward to chase his lips. When Keith doesn't let him get close enough to kiss him again, Lance groans. “What?” He whines, his voice hoarse. 

Elated laughter bubbles out of Keith’s throat before he can stop it. “I don’t know why you didn’t start with that.” He mutters, breathless, “This game could’ve gone a lot differently.” 

Lance laughs, leaning his forehead against Keith’s as his left hand traces lazy circles over his side. “Oh, believe me, I’ll definitely be starting with that from now on.” Lance grins, leaning in again, and Keith’s heart flutters.  _ From now on. _ Lance presses a soft kiss onto the side of his mouth, lacing their fingers together with a lopsided grin. “I’ll have to thank your brother for dragging you here tonight.” 

Now that Keith thinks about it,  _ really _ thinks about it, maybe he does have Shiro to thank for this new thing he has with Lance. His brother  _ did _ say earlier that if Keith got laid tonight, he would have his brother to thank. As usual, Shiro is right. It’s somewhat infuriating. 

In the next few months as their relationship progresses, Keith finally starts to understand why Shiro is always hanging around at the Galaxy Garrison bar with Adam—finally understands why people spend as much time as they can around another person. He hasn’t felt this way with any of his past boyfriends, even the more serious ones. With Lance, Keith learns, everything is intensified. After spending so much time with Lance, Keith decides that maybe going to the bar a few days a week isn’t such a bad thing, especially if it means seeing Lance onstage in all of his shining glory. He always has a great view and the full attention of the insanely hot bar performer, who he now has the luxury of going home with every night. This definitely wouldn’t be their last makeout session in the parking lot of the Galaxy Garrison bar. 

Shiro, the new mature thirty-year-old, only says “I told you so” seven or eight times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap!! thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed a lil flirty lance and flustered keith :) feel free to leave a comment to let me know what you thought of it!!


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